


Lesson

by yeaka



Series: Yutopian Zoo [12]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, Dry Humping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Yuuri doesn’t want to talk about his rut, but Victor happens.





	Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in the same partial-animal AU as some of my other ficlets, but it’s stand-alone and you don’t need to read them for this. (Long story short, human!Victor bought serow!Yuuri from the zoo.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Victor’s sweaters are warm and comfortable, and the beige knit one is his favourite, even though it’s too big and slips past his shoulders sometimes. Once, he’d be perfectly content to roll naked through the snow, but it’s different now, since he came to the zoo and Phichit explained it all to him—what humans think of nudity, or at least, the humans that went there. It wasn’t _wrong_ exactly, but it’s associated with things Yuuri doesn’t mean, and Yuuri’s trying to adapt. Victor adapts for him. He’s a little self-conscious now, and he wears Victor’s clothes most days, even if he doesn’t quite do it _right_ —pants are _strange_.

 _Humans_ are strange, and so is the cabin that Victor lives in, but Yuuri pokes into it more often than not. When the big beige sweater is too damp from all his play, now clinging to his body here and there and heavier with water, Yuuri comes to borrow another one. Victor always says he doesn’t mind. But Victor should be asleep now, so Yuuri closes the porch door quietly. He fiddles with the lock for a second, because he knows humans like to lock their things, but he can never quite remember how the mechanism is supposed to go, so eventually, he gives up.

He’s wandering past the living room when an odd noise rings through the air. His ears perk, instantly tracing the sound to the little purple rectangle on the ‘coffee table.’ It’s Victor’s phone, he thinks, and he’s heard that noise before. It whines again, and Yuuri whines after it—if it keeps doing that, it’ll wake poor Victor up.

Yuuri doesn’t know how to work the phone, even though Phichit tried to show him once, but he wanders over to it anyway. He hops onto the couch all at once, settling on folded legs to peer over at the offending object. The black screen lights up with a green shape and a red shape, and white lettering reads: _Phichit Chulanont._

Normally, Yuuri doesn’t touch Victor’s things. But Victor always says _his things are Yuuri’s things_ , and sometimes Yuuri misses Phichit—the only thing he still thinks of from the zoo. So he reaches to tap the phone the way Victor would, pawing at the front, and it seems to work—it makes another noise, and then Phichit’s voice filters through it, chirping, _“Hello?”_

“Hello,” Yuuri dazedly repeats—it’s weird to talk to a voice without a face.

Phichit doesn’t seem bothered. He just asks, _“Yuuri?”_ And Yuuri doesn’t need to see or smell him to sense that he’s happy.

Yuuri answers, “Hi, Phichit.”

 _“This is perfect!”_ Phichit laughs, which makes Yuuri perk up—he did well, somehow. _“I was going to ask Victor if I could talk to you anyway.”_

“Really? Why?”

_“To ask how you’re doing, of course!”_

Before Yuuri can stop himself, he’s said, “I am doing very well.” Then he wonders if he should’ve said that, because Phichit used to take care of him, and maybe it’s mean to say he’s doing better now—Phichit was a very good handler; the best the zoo had.

But Phichit still sounds pleased when he replies, _“I’m so glad to hear it!”_

And Yuuri remembers to asks, “How are you doing?”

_“Good! The new serow we got, Minami, is such a sweetie-pie. He can be quite uppity, but he’s young. I think you would’ve liked him.”_

Even though Yuuri doesn’t understand how a serow could be a sweet pie—what he thinks is human fruit-like food?—he’s glad to hear it. He tells Phichit, “I’m happy my spot is being used well, and that he’s happy. But I thought so. You take good care of the serows.”

 _“Thank you, Yuuri,”_ Phichit says, voice full of emotion—he’d probably be petting Yuuri if they were close, and Yuuri would rub against him. _“I try. And I hope Victor does too.”_ Yuuri hums, but before he can say that yes, Victor takes very good care of him, Phichit tells him, _“But that’s why I wanted to talk with you. Yuuri... you know the rut season starts soon, right?”_

In the sudden silence of the living room, Yuuri wilts. Guilt tugs at him, even though he hasn’t _done_ anything yet, because he knows that he will, and Victor’s been _so good to him_ and doesn’t deserve the trouble. Phichit sighs on the other end of the phone.

_“I know you don’t want to have to deal with it, Yuuri. But it’s important that you talk about it with Victor, okay? I can tell him what to expect, but you have to tell him what you want.”_

Yuuri winces. He doesn’t answer, just fidgets on the couch, which suddenly seems unnaturally springy and soft and _weird_. If it were anyone else, he’d probably get up and go racing into the hills.

But that’d be rude to Phichit, and Yuuri tries to be good. Phichit presses, _“Okay?”_

Yuuri sullenly mumbles, “Okay.” He thinks of asking other things—like if Victor wants to get rid of him, can he still go back to the zoo? Maybe he and Minami could rut together, and then it wouldn’t matter how many isolation units the zoo had. Except that Phichit said Minami’s young, and Yuuri’s not really anymore, and then he would have to wear the generic zoo cover-alls instead of Victor’s nice-smelling sweaters. 

Phichit seems to be waiting for more, so Yuuri asks, “Do you want to talk to Victor? He’s probably still asleep, but I can get him up...” The sun’s just barely risen, and while Phichit is often at the exhibit at the crack of dawn, Victor sleeps more. At least, more than Yuuri’s used to, or at different times. But that’s okay, because Yuuri’s allowed to snuggle into Victor’s nest of blankets, and Yuuri likes being around him then too. 

Phichit decides, _“No, that’s okay. I’ll call back tomorrow, to give you some time to speak to him first. But you can call me any time, okay? Or have Victor do it and just say hi in the background.”_

Yuuri says, “Okay,” and is glad for that qualifier—he wouldn’t want to have to work the phone himself. 

Then Phichit says, _“Take care, Yuuri! Talk to you soon!”_ and the phone makes another funny sound. Yuuri pokes at it, but nothing happens.

He calls, “Hello?” And still nothing. He thinks Phichit’s stopped using it.

Yuuri stares at the loft for a good few minutes before he finally gets the courage to wander up. That was the original plan, and he could still simply change clothes and go, but by the time he’s at the top, looking only at the grand bed where Victor sleeps, he can’t do anything but wade forward. He marked the wooden posts of Victor’s bed shortly after coming to the cabin, just lightly, just enough, and Victor let him, and now, even though he knows it’s _Victor’s bed_ , he can’t help but see it as _Victor in his territory_.

He climbs up onto the bed, on all fours, quiet and careful. Victor’s spread out across the pillow, silver hair splayed along his forehead, the blankets all drawn up to one shoulder, but Yuuri can see the outline of the rest of Victor’s body. Victor’s so _beautiful_ when he sleeps. He always is. Yuuri used to think that Victor was cute _for a human_ , but now he just thinks Victor’s always handsome. The most handsome creature Yuuri’s ever seen. And Victor’s warm and graceful and smells _so good_ that of course Yuuri wanted to leave the zoo for him.

More than that. A part of Yuuri knows he wants to mate with Victor. Of course he does. Anyone would, serow or human alike. Humans must be all over him—why does he live so far away from them now? But Yuuri tries not to think about that. He sucks in a breath and wills himself forward—tells himself it’s nothing big, no reason to fret like humans do over perfectly natural things, and he bends down to nuzzles his face into Victor’s. He has to be careful with his horns, because even though they’re dull, they’re hard, and Victor doesn’t have any. Victor has weird, round little hairless ears, but Yuuri likes him anyway. 

Yuuri grinds his forehead against Victor, knocking his glasses aside and messing up both their bangs, until Victor grunts and grins, eyes sleepily slitting open. Muttering something in Russian, he rolls closer into Yuuri. Yuuri pauses to take off his glasses, because his breath is starting to fog them up, and Victor says to take them off in bed. So Yuuri does, setting them aside on the little table by the bed, and then he kicks his way under the blankets properly, so he can face Victor head on. He knows his sweater’s probably too damp for it, but it’s already too late by the time he thinks of it. It doesn’t feel cold anymore. It’s stifling beneath the blankets; Victor’s body is a furnace.

Victor’s like the sun, or at least a star, gorgeous and full of light. For a moment, Yuuri hesitates. Because he knows what he wants. _He wants Victor_ , and the closer they are, the more he wants, the hotter he gets, the more he realizes that he’s actually _aroused_ , even though the season hasn’t started yet, and guilt claws at him again—why would Victor want an _animal_?

Now Yuuri knows what figure skating is. He’s seen Victor do it, seen how _amazing_ Victor is, and he’s seen Victor on the television, winning all sorts of human awards and getting all sorts or praise, and whole herds of humans crowd around him then and paw at him, like Yuuri does whenever he comes inside. He knows how special Victor is. And his hips stutter forward anyway, bumping into Victor’s—Victor’s blue eyes open more, and he mutters less sleepily, “Yuuri... wh... are you going into rut early?”

“No,” Yuuri promises, even though it doesn’t seem to matter. “You just, um... you smell really good...” Victor smiles. He’s irresistible when he does that—his eyes sort of crinkle, lighting up with it. Victor’s colouring reminds Yuuri of the mountains—his hair like ice and his eyes like the sky, his body full of lean, artful lines. Yuuri shuffles closer and nuzzles into his cheek, hips jerking forward again.

He’s not supposed to hump humans. That was one of the first rules of the zoo—one that only seemed to matter during rut, at least to him, not like other hybrids who couldn’t seem to help themselves all the time. But it’s really hard around Victor. Victor stiffens against him, then softens, and then Victor’s long arms are wrapping around him, pulling him in, and Yuuri’s grateful that Victor’s only wearing those thin pants he uses at night. He isn’t wearing any shirt—maybe because Yuuri keeps taking them. Yuuri wishes he were really _naked_ so he could feel skin on skin. 

Victor quietly asks him, “What are you doing?”

Yuuri doesn’t know. He whines. He rubs his nose into Victor’s, drags his lower body against Victor’s side, and whispers, “Please teach me?” Victor’s breath hitches. Yuuri’s hands tentatively find Victor’s shoulders, smoothing over them, wrapping around to hold Victor against him. Victor tilts his head—Yuuri follows. Then Victor hesitates, and Yuuri waits, until Victor’s pressing forward. 

He brushes his lips over Yuuri’s. Yuuri shudders with sheer _delight_ , and he squirms in Victor’s grasp, wanting every last bit of them aligned.

Once, after Yuuri had seen two patrons kiss on the lips, he tried it with Phichit. He thought it was just a _thing_ that humans did, but Phichit pulled away and kindly explained it to him. Blushing furiously and chastised, Yuuri learned. But it felt different then. Kissing Phichit was just friendly, and kissing Victor is...

Yuuri makes a ragged sound he’s never heard before, one he thinks he’s only made in rut, and he presses back against Victor as hard as he can. One of Victor’s hands rises to tangle in Yuuri’s hair, brushing back behind his ears. Then it trails around to cup Yuuri’s cheek, and Victor takes hold of Yuuri’s chin, his thumb pressed into the middle. He opens Yuuri’s mouth, and Yuuri lets him. Yuuri dizzily watches Victor’s tongue trace his parted lips, then slip into his mouth, and his eyes fall closed—Victor curls into him and licks him out, while Yuuri whimpers and squirms. He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it feels _good_. So good. Victor guides him—he just follows. He trusts Victor. Victor does everything right.

The more they kiss, the more Yuuri humps Victor, the hotter he gets, and then Victor moves, rolling suddenly on top of Yuuri. Yuuri automatically turns to go the other way—to lie face down and present himself for Victor, even though he never thought he’d submit that way, but Victor grabs his shoulder and gently turns him around. Yuuri doesn’t understand. He’s maneuvered back over, face-up, looking up to Victor as Victor bears down on him. Victor’s body leans down into his, grinding into him, and Yuuri whimpers as Victor fills his mouth again. He wants Victor so much he can hardly stand it—he wants Victor to mount him _properly_ , and he doesn’t understand why Victor won’t. This is sexual, even for humans—he’s sure of it—he can feel a hardness in Victor’s pants, rubbing into his own—doesn’t that mean the same thing? Doesn’t Victor want him? Yuuri’s cock is straining for release— _release inside Victor._ But Victor can have him first. He’d give Victor anything. Victor rolls into him in fluid, rhythmic motions that make Yuuri heady and needy, and Yuuri submits to that too, even though he wants to be filled _right_. He’d like to fill Victor more, but Victor already got on top of him—so Victor wants to top? It’s so _confusing_ , but it feels too good to stop, and Yuuri doesn’t want to embarrass himself by having to ask, not now, when Victor’s making him feel so blissful. 

Through all of it, they kiss, and Yuuri rubs into Victor in between, the two of them grinding together like a true couple in the heat of things. But every time Yuuri fidgets to the side, wanting to press his rear against Victor’s crotch, Victor just goes with him. Victor doesn’t even try to turn him over. When Yuuri pushes at Victor, Victor just rolls over, onto his back, not onto his stomach and not presenting himself like Yuuri wants, and Yuuri moans in frustration. Yuuri’s on top of him but not _mounting him_. But Victor’s with him the whole time, and it’s so good that Yuuri still can’t hold himself back for what should be the climax. Victor’s hand finally moves between them, and when Victor cups Yuuri’s hard cock through the sweater, Yuuri cries out and spills into Victor’s palm. His hips go into overdrive as he milks himself out, and Victor moans, squirming, stiffens, and then Yuuri can feel a wet spot growing in Victor’s pants. 

Yuuri whines. Victor massages his crotch until it’s all gone, and Yuuri’s twitching in place, still rubbing his face against Victor’s cheek. He feels both tremendously satisfied and lost, but he’s too sated to deal with either one. 

After a long moment of the two of them lying together in the heated afterglow, Yuuri’s twitching finally dying out, Victor grins sluggishly and asks, “What was that for?”

Yuuri’s cheeks flush. With his defenses down from the orgasm, he shyly asks, “Can I spend my rut with you?”

Victor grins so wide that Yuuri’s heart swells with it—he thinks he must’ve pleased Victor somehow, even though they made a mess of his nest without anything to show for it. Victor says, “Of course,” and snuggles closer to kiss him again.

When their languid kissing putters out, Yuuri lies against Victor’s shoulder. He wonders if this changes anything—if Victor’s his _mate_ despite all the odds. He still doesn’t know.

But he really, really hopes so.


End file.
